


Sleepless in Skyhold (Part I)

by SisterAmell



Series: Sleepless in Skyhold [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Passion, Sexual Frustration, Surprises, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterAmell/pseuds/SisterAmell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petani Lavellan. Cullen cannot imagine that Andraste herself was more fair. She exudes an innocence that makes him ache inside, but there are moments... There are moments when he'll catch her glance and he could swear that she is teasing him; a mischievous glint, a flicker of bridled sensuality. And when the corner of her pert mouth pinches in such a way... Oh, Maker! Is he imagining it? Seeing what he longs to see? When she licks her lips across the War Table, or leans languidly on one hip, or when she utters his title with a deep, breathy sound. “Commander..”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in Skyhold (Part I)

 

Sleep is a friend that has long since turned its back on Cullen. No longer a restful haven, it promises only dark memories and echoes of torment. For years following his experiences at the Circle in Fereldan, Cullen feared to sleep, for in dreams he would return to the cage at the top of that tower, and even when he awoke he could never be certain if this waking reality was just another demonic illusion. Sleep became his enemy, a hostile captor.

However, since breaking his lyrium addiction, Cullen has felt his shackles loosen. He now sleeps above his office in Skyhold, where the roof is in disrepair and lets in the starlight. When he drifts away, it is to a place that feels just a little safer. Less and less often are his dreams marred by blood and fire. Like the moonlight that caresses his battle scarred flesh as he lies there, a gentle voice touches his thoughts. Those eyes – _her_ eyes – have become as constant in his dreams as the dawn to come. Her absent gestures and little foibles, so familiar now, cause him to smile for no reason. Her hair that curls around her slanted ears in little teasing ringlets. Her tiny, almost fragile frame. Her skin, so pale that it could be crafted from pure moonlight.

Petani Lavellan. Cullen cannot imagine that Andraste herself was more fair. She exudes an innocence that makes him ache inside, but there are moments... There are moments when he'll catch her glance and he could swear that she is teasing him; a mischievous glint, a flicker of bridled sensuality. And when the corner of her pert mouth pinches in such a way... Oh, Maker! Is he imagining it? Seeing what he longs to see? When she licks her lips across the War Table, or leans languidly on one hip, or when she utters his title with a deep, breathy sound. _“Commander..”._

Tonight, such thoughts are hindering him even more than usual. Cullen lies atop the sheets of his simple Fereldan bed, naked to the waist, wearing only his braise. The night air is cool through the broken rafters of his roof, but he feels nothing but heat. He rolls over onto his side and strikes the pillow in an effort to soften it. Helplessly, he replays the encounter of the day in his mind; the lady Inquisitor entering his office with wrung hands and a slightly strained voice. She had seemed so anxious – Cullen had never seen her like it before. She had paced a little across the desk from him, where he'd sat poring over paperwork, and had hesitated for some time before speaking. But she hadn't actually _said_ anything! Asking about the latest news from Orlais was clearly not the reason for her visit, and yet she had blundered through some small talk and then excused herself. Cullen had wondered what in Andraste's name was going on, before forcing himself to resume his duties. The memory is itching him even now.

It is long past midnight when he hears the door creak open. By no means asleep, but startled from his musings, Cullen sits up. Somebody is downstairs in his office. He strains to hear them, while reaching slowly for a concealed dagger. The intruder is quiet – inhumanly so. Steps as light as silk approach the ladder. As they begin to climb, Cullen slips out of bed and moves very carefully towards the hatch. The room below is lost in black. The moon is partially hidden behind a bevy of passing clouds, and the Commander takes care to keep to the shadows. The unknown guest nears the top of the ladder. Cullen crouches.

There is a sudden, shocking rush of motion and sound. Cullen seizes the intruder and throws them roughly against the wall, dagger raised. With one strong arm he locks the person in place and braces his shoulders for further action.

“Show yourself!” he barks.

A strangled cough bursts from the figure's throat: “Cullen!”

Horror washes over the former Templar as he recognises the voice. In that moment, the clouds dissipate and moonlight comes sifting in through the broken rafters. The frightened face of Petani Lavellan is revealed.

“Sweet Andraste, forgive me!” cries Cullen, releasing the Inquisitor immediately. “I didn't know-”

The Dalish woman falls forward at the abrupt removal of his arms and he catches her. The poor thing is shaken and dazed and probably injured. Overcome with guilt, Cullen cradles her against his bare chest for a few long moments. Petani's heart is thundering in her chest all the way through to his rib cage. She is like a tiny bird that has been given a scare.

“Inquisitor, I...” he breathes into her hair. “Forgive me... Did I hurt you?”

“I'm all right.” Petani exhales deeply. “It's my fault... I shouldn't have snuck in here. I startled you.”

Cullen draws back, still holding her slender shoulders in his hands. He seeks her face in the partial light and is surprised to find that she is smiling.

“I can't believe what a foolish idea that was,” she says, shaking her head in amusement. “I... _Dirthara-ma_...” A self-deprecating laugh escapes her lips. “I'm so sorry, Commander.”

Although relieved to find that she is unharmed, Cullen is baffled by the turn of events. He stammers his way into: “What in Andraste's name are you doing here?” As his fight-or-flight instincts stand down, his other senses begin to return. He realises that he his still holding her and quickly removes his hands. He glances down – first at the floor, and then his eyes widen as he catches sight of what she is wearing.

The athletic figure that is usually clothed in leather and mail is now barely concealed at all. Delicate silk brocade drapes from off her shoulders, shimmering subtly in the moonlight and adorning her breasts. The waist is embroidered with a silvery thread, and the skirts of her gown are like a clear, azure waterfall pouring down over her bare feet. Her usually pulled-back hair is hanging loosely at her neck in tousled curls.

“Cullen...” she breathes, capturing his gaze. Her expression has become serious.

He swallows hard at the sound of his given name from her mouth. Looking away again, he lifts an arm to rub the back of his neck. “My lady, I... If someone were to see you... entering my quarters at such an hour, wearing...” he forces himself to keep his eyes averted from the tempting sight, “...wearing _that_... They might think-”

“They might think I'm headed to your bed, Commander?” The question bears an unexpected note of boldness.

Cullen stutters: “What? I...” He tries to clear his throat but it has turned dry.

Petani straightens, drawing in a deep breath. When she speaks again it is as if she has transformed from a timid bird into a huntress. “You cannot pretend you haven't noticed. I've wanted you for so long, Cullen...”

His stomach tightens. As if in an instant, his blood flares with heat. He cannot believe what he has just heard. With bated breath he stares at her, at a loss for words. Petani's forest eyes are waiting, delving into him, simmering beneath those dark lashes. Her lips are parted slightly. Her cheeks are rich with colour.

“I've never known,” she speaks once more, earnestly, “a man I wanted to give myself to. Until now. Cullen...” A small step towards him and her body is almost touching his. “Cullen, I don't know if you care for me the way I have come to care for you. But I-”

“I have,” he blurts out. “I mean, I do. Care for you.” He feels like he is choking on the words as he fights to release them. His heart is pounding so hard he is sure that she can hear it. “Inquisitor... _Petani_...”

Her doe eyes gleam as the moon pours through the fractured roof. She is breathing fast. “I've never been so certain of anything. I want you – in every way... I want to-”

He does not think, he just reacts. In one swift motion he takes her face in his hands and captures her open mouth. Both bodies erupt like a flash fire. Pressing her back into the wall, Cullen savages her lips, sighing with desperate want. Her softness and her heat, the rush of her breaths through mouthfuls of his kisses, the whimpers that spill from her throat – they consume him.

Soft hands clutch at his naked back. Every inch they touch sends his temperature up higher. She feels incredible... She tastes... He drives her mouth wide with his own and plunges a hungry tongue inside. Petani reacts with vigour, sucking earnestly on his invading member and dragging him tighter against her body. Cullen groans as his arousal slots in between her thighs, caressed by the fabric that separates their skin. His hands are trembling. He lets go of her face so that he might brace himself against the wall, his muscular form bearing down on her, closer and harder.

Petani cries out in her native tongue – a sound that drives Cullen wild. He responds with a bestial growl. Her arms lift to circle around his neck, and then she is pulling herself up to bite his ear. Sucking in a sharp breath, Cullen's head falls back. He feels her legs lock onto his hips and her mouth engulf his earlobe. Hot, wet pleasure laps at his sensitive appendage and coaxes another animal sound from him. He pins her up against the wall as she devours his jawline, both of them surrendering unbridled gasps and groans to the night.

“Cullen...” the elf girl pants into his moist neck. “Oh, Cullen... Take me, please!”

He almost explodes at the idea of her begging him. With his manhood so hard it is painful, Cullen sweeps Petani away towards the bed and practically throws her down upon it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Fade to black... Just kidding. Part II will kick it up a few hundred degrees)


End file.
